


What Would an Angel Say, the Devil Wants to Know

by commanderlurker



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Betrayal, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Past Relationship(s), class story spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29037768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commanderlurker/pseuds/commanderlurker
Summary: Smuggler captain Jun Lucke thought she’d left her past behind when she became commander of the Alliance. Who should walk back into her life but the lover who betrayed her: Darmas Pollaran.Over one night they rehash their past, and Darmas gets the chance to tell his side of the story.
Relationships: Darmas Pollaran/Female Smuggler
Comments: 9
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I fell in love with that bastard Darmas on my first playthrough, not knowing his ~true nature~ and I was SHOCKED at the reveal. Here’s my take on his side of the story. Mostly canon compliant but I fudged a few details.

# Odessen

Jun does a double take when she sees the man sitting in the booth. Can it be? He smiles and salutes with one finger, the move just as smooth now as it was then.

He must have escaped. Or maybe the Empire made some plea bargain with the Republic. Either way, she turns her back on Darmas Pollaran and settles in at Tora and Koth’s table.

*

Jun pokes her head around corners, looking for him, but she hasn’t seen him since last night. She makes it to the war room. Lana and Theron are deep into their own datapads. She takes her regular seat -- back to the wall, but close to an exit -- and scans the faces milling about. A tall blond catches her eye, but it’s not him. Was he still blond last night? Or grey?

 _Did you make him up?_ she asks Valkorian.

Silence.

_Yeah yeah, I get it. He’s not sith so he doesn’t matter. You know I’m not force sensitive either, right?_

She feels his chuckle tickle the back of her neck. She shudders.

“Lana, why’s Darmas Pollaran on Odessen and not Belsavis?” she asks.

Theron stares resolutely at his datapad. Too still. He knows the name, too, then.

Lana looks up from her reports. “I extracted him.”

Jun makes a face like she’s just been slapped. “You what?”

“I read his file. He’s one of the best deep cover agents the Empire ever produced.”

“Yeah, deep cover for _the Empire_.”

“He works for the Alliance now.”

She pffts at that.

Lana has the audacity to sigh. “If his presence going to be an issue, don’t worry. He’s only here for a few days gathering supplies. His usual spot is in a cantina on Zakuul.”

“Let me guess. Old time-y gambler masking as an information broker,” Jun deadpans. She turns to Theron. He’s doing a remarkable job of pretending to read. Got the eyes scanning the pad and everything. “Theron. Got any contacts at the SIS you can strong arm?”

He looks up and blinks like he hasn’t been paying attention this whole time. “Uh, maybe.”

“Get me everything they have on him. Lana, send me his file.”

*

He’s in the cantina that night, too. She could whip out her blaster and kill him now, like she should have done all those years back. She sighs. He’s not worth the trouble, and that part of the cantina would just have to be closed off while the droids cleaned up the body. And Lana would have to find a new smooth talker to prop up that cantina in Zakuul.

Of all the people to crawl out of hiding, it had to be him. Not her crew, that would be too easy. No, destiny serves him up instead. That bastard, double-crossing, traitorous spy.

*

The Imperial Intelligence file sits on her lap, the SIS file underneath. She swills the Corellian whiskey in her glass. Great alcohol. Shit planet. Darmas had given her a bottle after the King’s Ransom. A celebration for a job well done, like all the credits, gemstones, and gold bars hadn’t been reward enough. They’d fucked in his Port Nowhere quarters that night. She’d stayed, too, woken up in his bed to a hot cup of caf and a wry smile.

She doesn’t read either file, and she doesn’t finish her whiskey.

*

She slides into the booth. Darmas grins. Smug bastard.

“What do you go by these days?” she asks.

“I have so missed your pretty face. And Darmas is just fine.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

His smile cracks, just a little. “Much to my dismay, the Eternal Empire has never heard of my prowess at the sabacc tables, so for my purposes, or should I say, Miss Beniko’s purposes, I’m still Darmas Pollaran, inveterate gambler.”

She leans back. “Who are you, really.”

He glances at the heaving cantina. “Would you believe me if I said I had been asking myself that very question these last seven years?”

Darmas always had been a good actor. He’d faked their whole relationship after all, but the heaviness of his eyes, the regret in his voice suggests he’s genuine. “Let’s pretend I do believe you.”

He doesn’t answer, not immediately. He looks at her, meets her eyes, looks her over. She stares back. He’s older. Actually grey, not just sandy blond. Deeper wrinkles, saggier jowls. Did she really spend almost three years fucking this old man? She was only 21 when they met, she supposes. The questionable taste of youth. His suit is just as sharp, at least. Blue always did look good on him.

“I almost loved you,” he says. “If things had been different--”

She scoffs. “Please. Don't give me that crap.” She makes to get up. This was stupid, coming here, trying to get an answer, an apology, anything--

He reaches out and touches her arm. She pulls away. “It’s true! I didn’t know it at the time. Please. Sit down. At least let me buy you a drink and tell you my side of the story. Thanks to you, I spent four years on that delightful prison world of yours--”

“It’s not mine. I’m not with the Republic.”

“Too true. We’re with the Alliance now. I have never been so thrilled to have a sith break down my door. I was a true damsel in distress.”

She sits down. The night is young. She doesn’t have anything better to do tonight so she may as well hear what he says to say. She orders food from a passing serving-mech and takes that drink he offered.

Darmas gives her that helpless look again. “Perhaps I should start at the start.”


	2. Chapter 2

# Coruscant

Of all the people to call, Darmas least expected Corso Riggs. Such a hopelessly naive kid, but that only made him more malleable.

But this wasn’t a social call. Far from it. Corso had company -- pretty company -- and they needed Darmas’ help. He wasn’t one one to refuse a distress call, so he gave Corso the coordinates for the Dealer’s Den.

Corso had said Viidu was dead and the separatists had taken a hold of Ord Mantel. What a pity. And how had those separatists possibly have gotten their hands on so many blasters and explosives? Perhaps they were being spoon fed by the Empire. Not that Darmas would know.

Corso was taller in real life, but just as baby faced as the holo made him out to be. His company was even taller though. Stocky, muscular under that stained white shirt. She carried herself with the tension of someone who knows they’re out of place, her jaw clenched and shoulders tight. Time to turn on the charm and make them feel at home.

“Corso Riggs, long time no see! And you brought a friend.”

“Darmas, good to see you. This is Captain Jun Lucke. She helped me on Ord Mantel when the separatists got too close.”

Captain Lucke, hmm? Darmas leaned forward, hand on chin. “Forgive me for being so forward, Captain, but you’re more radiant than a Tatooine sunset. Darmas Pollaran, at your service.”

She grinned. Those shoulders dropped. “I don’t know if you’re calling me beautiful or deadly.”

“How about both.”

Corso cleared his throat. “Come on Captain, isn’t he a little old for you?”

“Don’t listen to the boy,” Darmas said. “You’re only as old as the woman you feel.”

Jun laughed but Corso frowned.

“Corso mentioned trouble on Ord Mantel. How did their issues bring you here?” Darmas asked.

The bright easiness of her expression hardened. “A man named Skavak stole my ship while I was delivering goods,” she spat.

He knew that name. Of course Skavak stole a starship. That’s just the type of bastard he was.

“It was full of… supplies,” Corso offered.

“For Viidu, care of Rogun the Butcher,” Jun added.

Well, that complicated things. Not even Darmas was prepared to get on the wrong side of that Chagrian. But where there was misfortune, lay opportunity. Here was the woman who could take Skavak out of the game for good.

“Skavak’s known to be in the Empire’s pocket, and he even cheats at cards.”

Jun crosses her arms. “If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a ship stealing card cheat.”

“I will gladly help you flush him out. Rumour has it, Skavak passed by Coruscant recently, but before you rush around every space port on the entire planet, hold up. You need to be smart about this.” He outlined what he knew about Skavak’s adventures through Coruscant. Jun listened, nodded. Her lips moved when he dropped his informants’ names, like mumbling them would commit them to memory. She had a gorgeous little frown.

“How much do you want for your information?” she asked.

“This information is free of charge, my dear. I would never consider extorting credits from a beautiful woman in distress.” Not only was she performing a public good, he’d be able to use her to tie up other loose ends that had been bothering him.

Corso gave her a friendly punch on the shoulder. “What did I tell you, Captain? Darmas can find anyone. We’ll have Skavak in no time.”

“Thanks Darmas. We’re still running on Ord time. Make a start, Corso?”

“After you, Captain.”

Darmas waited till they reached the door. “Sorry to hear about Viidu,” he said. Corso turned back. Jun looked over her shoulder. “He was a man of refined taste, and a terrible card player. I’ll truly miss him.”

Corso nodded, eyes downcast.

“Life is like sabacc,” Darmas said. “The trick is to quit while your ahead and enjoy your winnings. Exactly how I’ll spend my twilight years.”

Corso nodded again. Jun smirked though. Oh he would going to enjoy working with her.

*

They return from their jaunt in the Old Galactic Market sooner than Darmas expected. He hustled his current card partner out and poured his adventurers a drink. They flopped on a sofa. Corso sipped his glass but Jun downed hers in one go.

“That bad, hmm?” Darmas asked.

“I could sleep for a thousand years,” Corso said.

“Not till I get my ship back,” Jun said.

They updated Darmas. Well, Jun updated him. Corso’s head kept dipping, then jerking, as he woke himself up again.

“Hunting down Skavak is going to take time. Do you have anywhere to stay?” Darmas asked.

They shook their heads.

He set them up in a hotel. Nothing too fancy. Just a twin bed with their own refresher. He waved away offers of payment, not that either of them had much to offer; the errands he had her running more than made up for the bill.

So they settled in to Coruscant life. He kept tabs on their progress through his various informants. Some days he didn’t see them at all. Some evenings they’d drop by for a little sabacc. Corso was terrible, naturally. But Jun, now there was a card player. She won enough to keep them in credits, but at least it wasn’t Darmas’ credits she was winning. He’d have to play dirty, otherwise.

He flirted, she flirted back. Corso made a disgusted face and that just spurred Darmas on even more. Jun was charming, funny, smart. He very much wanted to sleep with her -- he didn’t need to; he wanted to.

His opportunity came at the end of her latest errand. The night was young and neither of them had any pressing matters. “Nothing to do now but wait for Skavak to make his next move. Perhaps we could play a little sabacc?” He dropped his voice to hint at his true meaning.

She grinned, eyes bright. “I was hoping we’d have a chance to get better acquainted.”

“That sounds delightful. I know so little about you.”

Corso cleared his throat. “I’m still here, Captain.”

“You know where the cantina is,” Jun replied.

“You sure you want me to leave you here with him?”

My my, so protective.

“Unless watching’s your thing.” She flicked a credit chit his way. He caught it one handed. “Take your time, we have _a lot_ to discuss.”

“Whatever you say, Captain,” Corso grumbled. Such a spoil sport. If Darmas didn’t know better, he’d say Corso had a little crush. The door slid closed and locked behind Corso.

Jun’s attention turned from the door to Darmas. “Now, about that talk.” She grabbed Darmas by the lapels and pulled him forward, kissing him with enough force to make him wobble.

Now this was just the type of conversation he hoped to have. He ran one hand down her back, squeezed her ass, held her closer with his other hand. She found her way under his jacket, untucking his shirt and running her hand up his back. Her warm palm left goosebumps in its wake.

She pulled back and looked around. Sabacc table, couches. None of them met with her approval. Fortunately, his droid changed his sheets this morning.

He ran his hand through her hair. “I wouldn’t dream of continuing such an important conversation with you _here_. We need comfort!” He tilted his head and peeled away from her, to a side door. She stopped in the doorway. Mesmerised by the view, no doubt. Floor to ceiling windows showing off the orange glow of Coruscant's lights. Speeders whizzing by. Always did the trick. Even he loved the view after all these years.

“I don’t go down and I don’t do it from behind,” she said. So the view hadn’t caught her breath. “If that’s a problem…”

“Not at all. You have your preferences, and I have mine.” He grinned, genuine. As far as requests go, this was tame. Explained why the sabacc table was out, too. Pity. That was always was a favourite.

She pressed her hand to his chest, curled her fingers into a fist and tugged his lapels again. She kissed him hard, broke away and headed in. Now she stopped in her tracks.

“Wow. How do you ever get any work done with this view?”

He chuckled. Closed and locked the door. Poured two glasses of Corellia’s finest, and while she was distracted by the view, popped a stim. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit that he needed chemical help keeping up with younger lovers.

He brought her glass over, stood next to her. The hover cars caught her attention, then higher, ships leaving Coruscant. If there was one thing he had learned about her over these few weeks, it was her love of space. Not his thing, personally. He preferred solid ground, real air, different people all around. She’d be a useful asset once she got her ship back.

“I’ve learned a lot about you recently,” he said, “but one thing I don’t understand is how such a charming woman as yourself got embroiled in running blasters for Rogun.”

She put her hand on his chest again. “Let’s forget about Rogun, huh? And Skavak, and my ship, and just… everything.”

She was tired. He saw that now. Dark rings under her eyes, smile strained. If it was a distraction she needed, then he could provide. He kissed her forehead, set both their glasses down, and kissed her lips. She melted against him, chest to chest. Her hand found the nape of his neck, fingers in his hair. He squeezed her ass and led her to bed.

*

For once, his informants delivered too fast. He’d hoped to get to know her even more. One night wasn’t enough. She’d left after their very thorough and thought provoking conversation last night, chaperoned back to the hotel by Corso. He’d’ve liked her to stay, but he understood her desire to leave afterwards.

He didn’t bother getting dressed or even out of bed. He called her, knowing Corso would likely see him shirtless.

Took her a while to answer. “Little early to be calling, Darmas. This better be good.” Her hair was mussed, eyes crinkled, like she’d just woken up. Her shoulders were bare save for the straps of a vest.

“I’ve got a lead on Skavak, but you’ll have to act fast.” He relayed what he knew. He felt bad, sending her into Justicar territory on no caf, but if that’s where Skavak had gone, she’d have to follow. And she’d get Skavak this time, no doubt. He regretted seeing her go.

“You’ve been a real prince, Darmas. Thanks for the help.”

He nodded and gave a casual, one finger salute. “Any time. And I hope this isn’t the last we see of each other.”

She grinned. “I’m sure I can find a reason to come back.”

He hung up and pulled on a shirt. He had a call to make to a certain senator.

# Odessen

Jun rolls her glass against the table. “I got my ship back, but I didn’t get Skavak. Not for months.”

“I watched the bounties on both your heads fly by. You certainly made enemies of each other.”

“Don’t forget Rogun.”

“I never did. But you didn’t go after Skavak immediately?”

She sighs. “I wanted to get as far away from him as possible. And anway, he’d picked up a stowaway when he stole my ship. She just so happened to be the daughter of Nok Drayen, so let’s just say my priorities changed.”

“Ah yes, your grand treasure hunt. I followed your progress with great interest. Fancy claiming the hidden riches of one of the underworld’s most notorious leaders when you were well on your way to becoming a legend in your own right.” Darmas looks so proud.

“I can’t say I was thinking that far ahead. I was just glad to be back on board, with a crew and everything. I have you to thank for that.”

“Our initial meeting was fortuitous, was it not? And we both got something out of seeing that bastard Skavak get taken out.”

“I can’t help but feel you gave me the run around, at least at the start. Delivering those messages? Sending me into the depths of Justicar territory with all those gangs? Surely you could have done all that from the comfort of your lavish office.”

Darmas tilts his head. “Yes and no. Sometimes the personal touch is what’s needed. Besides, I had to do my due diligence. I knew many smugglers, but your name hadn’t passed by me.”

“You calling me small fry?”

“No need to get defensive. Everyone starts somewhere, even me. The point is, I helped you -- for free -- and you helped me.”

She rolls her eyes at the ‘for free’. “I was too desperate to get my ship back to question why you were helping out of the kindness of your heart. Not that I had the credits to pay. And before you think less of me, I didn’t fuck you as payment for your services. You were cute for an old man, and you knew it. And maybe I was a little grateful for the leads.”

“Old man! Pah.” He runs his hand through his grey hair. “Imperial Intelligence trains their agents to use every method possible to tame, cajole, or otherwise get intel out of a target, including sex. But I’m a man of principle. What went on between you and me, stayed between you and me. Never made it into any reports.”

“So you _were_ fucking me out of the kindness of your heart.”

“You do yourself a disservice. I meant it when I said you were beautiful. You still are.”

She doesn’t miss the way his hand shifts an inch closer to hers. She grips her glass tighter. “You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want to see all my sweet new scars.”

Darmas smiles. “How about I pass you the galaxy’s tiniest violin and tell you about how Imperial Intelligence threw my life into disarray, all because of you?”

At least he’s self aware. “Go on then,” she sighs.


	3. Chapter 3

# Port Nowhere

Orders. From Keeper. Darmas hadn’t had honest-to-Emperor orders in years. Requests for information, sure. Targets to watch, yes. But orders? No one even had the decency to order him to hunker down before Darth Malgus invaded Coruscant. Had to duck for cover like everyone else.

Rogun the Butcher was getting too close to the Voidwolf, and the Empire needed the ‘rogue’ Imperial Voidwolf to stay rogue. Years of Darmas’ exemplary work -- carefully collated reports on smugglers, mercenaries, and privateers with Republic or Imperial sympathies, a cultivated affair with a truly wonderful senator, and his own impeccable personality -- coalesced into one fortuitous moment.

Leaving Coruscant was easier than he thought it would be. He’d been here close to twenty years. Lived through the sacking of Coruscant. That may have been good for the Empire, but it had been bad for business, at least for a few weeks. Seen the kids around him grow up and flourish in their own little gangs. Watched those gangs come and go.

And now he was leaving. He didn’t have much to pack up. Everything important he kept on data chip in his inside breast pocket. Anything more important, he kept in his memory.

He took in that view one last time. Sat on the edge of his big bed. Swoop bikes whizzed past, hover cars coded to their lanes droned overhead. The sun, hidden by a building, cast its orange light over the city. He could just see the ground from here, too, all the way down there.

He’d made a lot of memories in this place. He would likely never return. He closed the door and never looked back.

He arrived at Port Nowhere the way he intended to leave: with a blaster in one hand and a pocket full of credits. The station hadn’t changed a bit. Neither had the barman. Not that Puck recognised him. Last time he’d been here, he’d been a different man. Literally. He hadn’t been that man for twenty years and he wasn’t about to revisit him now.

Puck knew Darmas was coming and had arranged quarters accordingly. Private sabacc room off the main cantina, office off that, and a spacious living area that exuded no charm whatsoever. He’d have to see to that.

Didn’t take him long to ingratiate himself with the locals, as transient as they were. He knew most of them by reputation, if not from the sabacc tables of Coruscant. Fortunately, no one recognised Senator Bevera Dodonna when she arrived in an unmarked but deceptively well-kitted out shuttle. They passed a handful of days in the type of luxury that Darmas was more used to and hashed out their plan to recruit Captain Lucke to their plan. She’d not made it back to Coruscant. Pity, he really thought she would, but she was busy making a name for herself. When word got to him that Skavak was finally dead, at Jun’s hand, Darmas raised a private toast. He called to congratulate her, suggested they have a celebratory drink together at his new office.

He hadn’t anticipated getting captured with the lovely senator within the first three days of arriving at Port Nowhere, but there he was, caught with his trousers down -- not literally, thankfully -- locked up in some cage like a Hutt’s play thing. He was even willing to admit that he was a little scared. Rogun was not to be trifled with. Perhaps he had underestimated him. His goons were just that though, goons. Perhaps Rogun intended to come to Port Nowhere himself. Or maybe these idiots were supposed to ship him and Dodonna off to one of Rogun’s safe houses. Now wouldn’t that be an ironic way to find out where that bastard was hiding.

Fortunately for Darmas, Dodonna, _and_ the Voidwolf, Captain Lucke turned up in time to make a daring rescue. He wouldn’t lie; watching the way she blasted through those goons really was sexy.

She shot the lock and the door swung free.

“Captain!” Darmas greeted. “Can I just say what a relief it is to see your pretty face.”

“Not the welcoming party I’d hoped for, Darmas.” She eyed Dodonna and shot that lock too. “Who’s your friend?”

Darmas retrieved his blaster from the dead man on the ground. “Let’s catch up somewhere nicer, hmm? I’ll make formal introductions then.” He tilted his head and indicated for the women to follow him. Dead bodies littered the floors. Mostly Rogun’s men, but some smugglers and gamblers caught in the crossfire. Pity. They’d be cleaned up sooner or later.

He stopped by the cantina and apologised to Puck for causing such a fuss.

“No problem, Mr Pollaran. Always something happening around here. You’ll excuse me for not getting involved. Not my business.”

He understood. No hard feelings. Port Nowhere saw its share of bust ups and shoot outs. There really were a lot of bodies... Perhaps Rogun would think twice before sending more lackies to do his work. Or maybe he’d stop being a coward and turn up himself.

His private quarters, a bottle of whiskey, and three glasses later, Darmas settled in to make introductions. Bevera sat on the couch next to him, dominant in her laziness. Jun remained standing.

“Captain, may I introduce you to Senator Bevera Dodonna. Dodonna, Captain Jun Lucke.”

“A pleasure,” Bevera said. “I’ve heard so much about you, and now, seeing you in action? Darmas was right about you.” She leant forward and crossed her legs, even propped her chin up on her fist.

Jun clenched her jaw. “Senator, as in, for the Republic?”

Bevera laughed. “Who else? It’s not like the Empire has elected officials.”

Jun looked to Darmas, back at Bevera.

“Bevera approached me some time back with an offer I couldn’t refuse. I work with her now, can you believe it, me, a legitimate friend to the Galactic Republic! Rah rah, all hail the Republic, etcetera, etcetera.”

His joke fell flat. Jun’s face was a picture of confusion. Fuck. He really thought wry sarcasm would work. He switched tact, turned serious. Pitched the privateer work, emphasised the transponder code that would get her ship through customs at any Republic port no questions asked and the blind eye to almost any laws she broke. And, of course, any profit she made along the way, well, that was hers to keep. She asked questions. More than he thought she would and he’s honestly impressed. She had her head screwed on the right way, that was for sure.

At the end she’s still cagy, says she would have to talk it over with her crew, but he thought he got her on board.

One match to the Voidwolf. The three of them celebrated the negotiation with fine Corellian whiskey but Darmas couldn’t wait for Bevera to leave so he could celebrate privately with his favourite captain.

When they were finally alone, Jun didn’t rush to pull her clothes off. She swirled the whiskey in her glass. "Too much of a coincidence you leaving Coruscant and taking this Republic job. What’s the deal?"

“Let's just say Coruscant and I have gone through a bad breakup and she took all the silver."

She raised her eyebrow. He'd have to give her more information, but not too much.

“The senator made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

She nodded slowly. “You said. Blackmail or bounty?” she asked.

Darmas tipped his head. “A bit of both,” he offered.

She’s quiet a moment. His short answers would surely tell her that he doesn’t want to talk about it. He put on a brave face.

"You going to be okay here?" she asked.

He laughs. She's sweet. "My dear, I've been in rougher places. Port Nowhere will suit our business endeavours quite nicely."

“ _Our_ business endeavors. I like that.” She sat her glass down and wandered over, threw her leg over his lap. She sat down, hands on his shoulders, and he took a handful of her ass, looked up at her. She really was beautiful.

Now, they could celebrate.

# Odessen

Memories rush back. “Rember the sex we had after you’d finally gotten rid of Dodonna?” Jun asks.

“How could I forget? Nothing like coming close to death to make you want to, well…” Darmas tilts his head and lets her fill in the blank.

She shakes her head. “I can’t believe I believed you’d gone legit. You know how much that pained me? I thought it was a set up. Your cagey reply was bullshit but I didn’t want to press. Little did I know, I was right, _and_ you had Dodonna wrapped around your little finger too.” She takes a sip of her whiskey. “How’d you con her? You play the long game with her, too?”

“Convincing a Republic senator to work for the Empire wasn’t nearly as difficult as you might imagine. It’s like fishing, really. You choose the right bait for the fish you want to hook.”

She snorts. “You’ve never been fishing in your life.”

“I watched a holo about it once. Now, I’m an expert.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I thought about this fic and the class story, the more I thought, why did Darmas leave Courscant? He had a good thing going there. Why did his move to Port Nowhere not raise any red flags for the smuggler?


	4. Chapter 4

# Coruscant -- five years before Captain Lucke walked into Darmas’ life

Darmas’ holo chimed. He looked up from his report and raised an eyebrow at the sender’s name. He didn’t get calls from people like this very often. He stood and made himself presentable, making the caller hang on longer than necessary.

He cleared his throat, hit accept. “Senator Dodonna, what an honour to receive your call.”

“Darmas Pollaran, I presume.” Dark hair, dark eyes, a regal senatorial cape. How dashing.

“At your service. What can this humble sabacc player do for you, an elected official of the Galactic Republic?”

“I have it on good authority that you’re good at more than just cards. I need information, and word has it, you’re the man to talk to.”

“I know many things, my dear. What do you need to know?”

“The names of privateers and smugglers operating in Republic space.”

Darmas laughed. “Selling out your customers is for bad business, I’m afraid.”

“You don’t understand. I want to recruit them. Perhaps we could discuss this proposition in person? I’m sending you an invitation to my office.”

“Cavorting with senators is also bad for business.” The invite came through with a time and location. Bright and early, how lovely. “I suppose I can haul myself out of bed before midday. I look forward to meeting you in person, Senator.”

“Please, Bevera is fine.”

“Very well, Bevera. See you soon.”

Darmas kept having to swallow his smirk as he walked through the senate tower’s halls. How many people like him had just walked in with an invitation? He tracked everything he could see and hear, memorised his route, counted the people, their uniforms. A jedi here, an administrator there. Snippets of conversation, hushed behind hands or briefing pads.

A tall man with a bland accent directed him to the senator’s office. Bevera was there at the door with a tight smile. She was shorter in person.

She presented an interesting proposition. Paying off privateers to do the dirty work the Republic was too afraid to do themselves. Why not send the SIS to do these jobs? Same reason the Empire didn’t: they didn’t have enough agents embedded. Smugglers, privateers, pirates, they had all cultivated their relationships and partners over years and years. Trust was hard to earn and harder to keep. Backstabbing, betrayal, selling out, it happened every day. Darmas had watched it. Hell, he betrayed his contacts every day. They just didn’t know it. So when a light touch was needed, a prod or a poke, you didn’t call in the troops and you didn’t call in the spies. You called in the little people.

Bevera was smart. She knew he wasn’t everything he said he was, but she definitely didn’t know just how much of a liar he was. But that would work in his favour, of course. A little blackmail here, a little bribery there.

Bevera scrutinised Darmas’ words, asked a handful of very astute questions. If Darmas had been a less capable agent, she would have seen through his white lies and missing information. In the end, her proposition intrigued him, so he agreed to help. And if it all fell through, he’d have great blackmail material. But he painted himself into a corner in some ways. To expose her when the time came, he risked having to expose himself. But, the Empire had ways of dealing with that. He’d miss Coruscant, when the time came to leave. In the meantime, there was plenty to enjoy.

He put feelers out, asked some of his more loyal smugglers how they’d feel about legit Republic work. Some laughed in his face. Others were interested. He pointed two or three in the direction of Bevera’s handler, collected her finders fee and left it at that. He wasn’t interested in getting involved personally. Bad for business. He watched those smugglers with interest though. Tracked their jobs, the goods they smuggled, the thorns they plucked. She was good, he had to admit. And she had excellent taste in whiskey.

Seducing her was easy. He just turned on the charm. She laughed at his jokes, responded to his flirting. Planted the idea that she could have him, if she wanted. It was no surprise when she kissed him.

He didn’t need to go to the trouble of setting up an affair, but part of him was curious. He’d surely glean valuable information from her, information that a merely professional relationship wouldn’t be privy to. Information like this was valuable, and not just to the Empire.

He learned her weaknesses, her desires. She craved more power but there was only so much power an elected official could have. She took on the portfolios the chancellor gave her with gusto. He watched her drop bribes when she needed to. The Empire offered power to those who were willing to take it. Sith first, of course, but the sith were too arrogant to see that the Empire truly ran on lowly force-blind officials and administrators. Without the grunts, the sith would tear themselves apart with infighting and backstabbing.

He told her post-sex. They were both naked, still basking in the afterglow. Figured she couldn’t make a quick exit if she had to put her clothes on first. And figured that if his intuition was wrong and his admission backfired, he’d at least be able to blackmail her. Fortunately, that blackmail wasn’t needed.

“I have to confess that I haven’t been entirely honest with you,” he said.

“Let me guess. You’re actually, what’s his name, Durham Pouncer, Coruscant's greatest whiskey critic?”

“Ha, no. Nothing like that. But,” he drawled, “I’m not the freelancing information broker I’ve lead you to believe. In fact, I have an employer.”

She raised an eyebrow, sipped her whiskey. Light from outside catches on the glass, splashing her body in yellow and gold.

“Your talents are wasted, Bevera. Your ambition deserves more than the squabbling interests of the Republic can give.”

“And you’re telling me the Empire is any better?”

“The Empire rewards talent and ambition. You rise to the top because you’re good at what you do, not because you have to convince a voter base who can’t look beyond their own self interest.”

“You seem to know a lot about the Empire, Darmas.”

He smiles.

She barked a single laugh. “I should’ve known you were too good to be true. So. What’s your sales pitch?”

She wasn’t slapping him, so that was a good start. “You’ve heard it already. The work your doing with these smugglers is exactly the kind of work the Empire rewards.”

Darmas dangled the planet-sized bait in front of her. She bit.

# Odessen

“So she got you working for her, then you got her working for the Empire. The Voidwolf promised her a planet. How’d you convince her the offer was real when it was so obviously fake?”

Darmas waves his hand down his torso. “Same way I conned you. Wit and charm, and don’t forget, I am a cunning linguist.” He’s right about that. Bastard. “The offer may have been too good to be true, but I’d been working the Empire angle long enough that she only saw what she wanted, red flags be damned.”

“And your information broker act was just that, an act. You were spying the whole time.”

“Not exactly.” He pauses. Drums his fingers on the table. “I had my own interests with the information I gathered. I didn’t just serve the Empire. I’d been on Coruscant twenty years. Sure, I reported back to Drommand Kaas when I needed to, but Coruscant, its people, was my home. I had friends, associates, beautiful lovers. Crime lords like Rogun were the Empire’s target. Bastards like Skavak were my target. Bad for business. I gathered information and gave what I deemed necessary to my keeper, and sold on what I needed to.”

“So they gave you a long leash?”

“I don’t like to think of it as a leash. Bad connotations. But yes. Most agents don’t make it past 40. They die or burn out. By 40, I was ready to retire from field work and take a comfy desk job that would bore me to death within a year. Instead, my chance to live deep cover in Republic space came up. Then the sacking of Coruscant happened.”

“I’d only just been born.”

“Now you’re making me feel old. I was sent to Coruscant just before, with unlimited credits and orders to listen to what the good people were talking about. I waved those credits in the Dealer’s Den’s owner’s face and set up shop. Gambling at first. But a good gambler listens. And makes a lot of credits.”

“So how’d it work? Did you have to pay all your winnings to the coffers of your glorious emperor?”

“No, I kept them all for myself. Made myself a tidy fortune. Even bought myself a casino on Corellia.”

Jun nods. Sumalee told her about that. “You sure got around. Fingers in pies, and all that.”

“Not just fingers and not just pies.”

She laughs. She can’t help it. He’s just as smooth now as he was when she met him. She wonders if he’s got any lovers on Zakuul. “How long had you and Dodonna been carrying on before I came along?”

“Four, maybe five years.”

“Did she mean anything to you?”

“Not the way you’re thinking.” Darmas twists his glass. “I used her, yes. Our dalliance got me more intel than I could have dreamed of. But I didn’t care for her.”

 _Like I did you_. He doesn’t say it, but its there in the drawl of his voice, the light in his eyes. She’s tempted to ask what Dodonna was like in bed, but she’s not going to be that petty.

“We can agree that we all got something out of the arrangement, hmm?” Darmas says. “I got to sleep with two beautiful women, Dodonna got to live out her fantasy of slumming it with the underworld, and you, my dear, became unfathomably wealthy.”

“All thanks to you.” She lets the sarcasm drip. She already had Nok Drayen’s riches. It wasn’t like she was patching the ship with duraplast.

“I was merely your fixer. You and your dedicated crew did all the hard work.”

Too right they did. She had agreed to be a privateer, not a hired gun who flew into warzones. That first mission for Dodonna tested her patience. She almost called off the whole deal. But it hadn’t been a complete waste. She’d met Akaavi on Balmorra. Between Akaavi and Bowdaar, Jun had the best bodyguards anyone could hope for.

“Balmorra was a pain in my ass,” Jun says.

“Mine too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this from Darmas' point of view threw up all sorts of questions. Like, how did he start working with Dodonna? What was that like? How did he turn her?


	5. Chapter 5

# Balmorra

A pity Bevera couldn’t make it in person, but she did have important work to do on Coruscant, after all. And Jun was on her way to Balmorra. Darmas made up for the lack of company by bedding Puck’s charming twi'lek bartender instead.

His holo chimed just as Alia finished pulling her boots back on. Darmas threw on a shirt and trousers.

“I won’t be a minute, my dear,” he said.

“I’ll have the bottle waiting for you,” Alia replied. She gave him a quick kiss and left.

Darmas ran his hand through his hair, angled himself away from the unmade bed, and answered the call.

Bevera, in all her senatorial glory. She looked harangued. Great, just what he needed. “Bevera, what a pleasure to see your pretty face.”

“Cut the sweet talk, Darmas. Has Lucke landed on Balmora yet?”

“Can’t say I know, but my contacts on the ground will no doubt contact me as soon as she’s sighted.”

“Good. She better work fast.”

“What’s the hurry?”

Bevera huffed. She looked like she was about to speak but stopped herself. “Nothing. Can’t you use your connections to hurry things along?”

Darmas couldn’t quite bite back his frustration. “Shall I have someone plant the Nebula plans in a lock box and deliver them to her ship, or would that be too easy?”

“It would certainly speed things up.”

He held back a sigh. “You’re getting too eager, Bevera. We need to keep her on our side. You keep working the White Maw angle and leave Project Nebula to me.”

She gave him her best senatorial face. The ‘I have no time for idiots’ face. It was one his least favourites.

“I’ve got her firmly in my pocket, don’t you worry.” He had Bevera firmly in his pocket too.

She gave a terse goodbye and ended the call.

Word got to him halfway through his sabacc game that Jun had landed and had managed to wreak havoc already. Darmas finished his hand and excused himself.

“Captain, you’ve made it to Balmorra, I assume?”

The connection was patchy. “Sure have. Avoided the defence cannons and everything. Ready for my first official-unofficial Republic-backed mission.” She gave the air a light punch.

Darmas grinned. “That’s the spirit. Dodonna is eager to see how you handle your first mission. Did you have a chance to read the dossier while dodging those cannons?”

“Let’s just say I did.”

What a plucky go getter. He filled her in on the need to know. Bombs fell in the distance, shaking her holo. He really hoped she survived this job, and not just because of the Voidwolf’s plan.

“Remember,” he said. “There’s opportunity in war. You just have to pick your target.”

She grinned. Of course she understood. She’s a professional, after all.

# Odessen

Darmas leans back. “I have to say, receiving that shipment from Project Nebula was one of the greatest moments of my life. Really. I’d hoped beyond all hope that you’d send it my way and not be a little goody two shoes for the Republic.”

“You just sold it back to the Empire, right?” That thought came to her in the middle of the night cycle, a few weeks after she’d taken down the Voidwolf and claimed the dubious title of the Voidhound. She never did like titles with the definite article. So pompous.

“I sold bits and pieces here and there. Only a handful of parts made it back to my friends in the Empire.”

“How noble of you,” she deadpans.

“They weren’t the hightest bidder. Plain and simple. I was working for you. I was protecting _your_ interests.”

She hmms. “You did make me a lot of credits, I’ll say that much.”

“And I skimmed hardly any off the top. A pity about your next job.”

Hoth. The White Maw. That cloaking device. She shudders.

“Did you have any idea what I was getting into on Hoth? How fucking _cold_ that ball of ice was? Even Bowdaar was frozen, and he’s furrier than a tauntaun.”

“Now now, don’t blame me for that. Dodonna was the one who sent you there.”

“Yeah, you probably made her do your dirty work. And you weren’t even around to warm me up after, either.”

“Ha! Like I’d want your icicle hands all over me. Still” -- his voice drops -- “if I remember correctly, I managed to warm you up.”

She can’t stop the blush. She stops the squirm, but she hopes the lights are dim enough to hide her hot cheeks. Damn, he’d been good. A secure line, her holocomm, and a locked door was all they’d needed to get each other off. Even if he looked all grainy blue and only six inches tall.

“I worried about you down there,” Darmas says. “White Maw, freezing wastelands.”

“The Republic and Empire only got interested in it because the Empire had the gall to blow up a Republic ship.”

Darmas waves away her objection. “Details! The important thing is, _you_ were there.”

“I was going to keep the cloaking device for myself,” she says.

“I had no doubts.”

“Did you want me to get it for the Empire?”

“That was the plan. I was relying on that if you did have a crisis of conscience and gave, or sold, it to the Republic, you’d do so through Dodonna, and she’d hand it to me. But, as we so sadly know, the cloaking device was no device at all.”

“Do you think I did the right thing?”

His expression gets serious. “Trick, right? Giving him to the jedi? I have done awful things in the name of the Empire. Imperial Intelligence demanded I do awful things. I can barely call myself a decent human being on a good day, but if I’d let that kid be tortured for the sake of having the strategic advantage, then I couldn’t live with myself.”

“So noble.” She thinks he’s serious but she’s not going to let him think he’s wormed his way back that easily.

“He’s on Tython, Alilia is too,” he says. “They survived some little incursion and were doing well, last time I checked. Hard to send messages with Zakuul shitting in everyone’s backyard, but I try. He’ll never be a jedi master, but he’s learned enough to stay safe, without hurting himself. If you don’t believe me, I’m sure your spy master can verify it.”

That’s not a bad idea, actually. She’ll ask Theron to do some digging tomorrow. “The White Maw didn’t care about him. _Pirates_ don’t care about anyone but themselves.”

Darmas sits back. “Ah, yes. Pirates. Listen, I didn’t want to set you up with the Kings Ransom job. If it had been up to me, I’d have had you working with Niko Okarr.

“But it wasn’t up to you. Blah blah blah.”

“Even I answered to someone higher up the chain.”

“I suppose you worked on selling me that pitch, too?”

“Hardest bluff of my life.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of those parts of the class story where I thought, hang on, it doesn't make sense that Darmas would encourage an alliance between a smuggler and a pirate. Smugglers /hate/ pirates. So why would he set up this job? When I thought about Darmas' role as a middleman in all this, the answer became clear.

# The King’s Ransom

Lock the door, block all comm frequencies _except_ this one, dampen the sound. Suit straightened, hair styled. Stretch the face muscles, remember how to smile. Whiskey. A swig now to fortify, the rest for after.

Darmas made the call.

“Darmas Pollaran, just the man I was expecting.” The Voidwolf’s voice send a shiver down Darmas’ spine.

“At your service, as always,” Darmas replied.

The Voidwolf chuckled the way a nexu might with a mouse. “I have a proposal that will be mutually beneficial to our interests.” His accent made Darmas’ skin crawl. The way he annunciated every letter in ‘mutually’ but dragged out ‘our’. “The King’s Ransom is an Imperial treasury ship bound for our fellow compatriots on Drommand Kaas. Your smuggler, with the help of my pirate, will raid it. It’s up to them how they split the prize.”

A smuggler. Working with a pirate. Was the Voidwold mad? Darmas blew out his cheeks. “That’s quite the target, lucrative, of course, but is the pirate necessary? Smugglers aren’t known for getting chummy with pirates.”

“Don’t you think I know that? She can’t raid the ship alone. ‘Can’t’ as in, if she tries with just her hacked together crew, she’ll be toast; and ‘can’t’ as in, we need her getting chummy with pirates, as you so eloquently phrased it.”

“Very well. What’s the plan?”

The Voidwolf smiled his murder smile.

*

Darmas put his head in his hands. Ran his hands down his face. _You’ll think of something_ , the Voidwolf had said. How would he possibly going to sell this to Jun?

He put the call through, teased the mission. An Imperial target, high risk, high reward. She was keen, of course, even more so when he suggested she come and discuss the mission in person. He had a few hours to work on his sell. At least he’d get to see her. It had been so long.

*

His heart flipped when he saw her walking over. For one terrifying second he thought he was having a heart attack, but that ache in his heart meant something much worse. He swallowed and ignored what his body was trying to tell him. He ginned instead. Game time.

“Captain! So good to see your lovely face again.”

She walked into his open arms and accepted his chaste kiss to her cheek. She smelled like engine grease. Divine.

“Do you want the good news, or the good news?” he asked.

“You know me, Darmas. Hit me with the good news.”

He directed her to a table in the corner of the cantina, already occupied. They had an open view of the cantina and dance floor, and the door to his quarters was just behind them.

The cathar at the table stood up. “Darmas,” he said. “And you must be Captain Lucke. Charmed, I’m sure.”

Jun kept her smile in place but was forced. Her body was rigid. “Vaz Traniff,” she spat. Ah, lovely. She already knew him. “Not what I had been expecting, Darmas. You better have a damn good explanation for inviting a pirate to your table.”

Darmas turns on the charm. “You two have a mutual enemy. I thought you could put your ideological differences aside and come together to strike a blow against the Empire.”

“Well, you thought wrong. You’re on your own with this one.” She backed away.

Darmas followed. “Whoa whoa, hold on now, Captain. Let’s be reasonable.”

“I don’t fuck with pirate scum.”

Traniff growled, “Better watch your tone, little girl.”

“Stick it up your ass, Traniff.”

_Fuck you, Voidwolf. I knew this wouldn’t work_. Darmas waved to Puck. Top shelf, three glasses. He put his arm out, shepherded Jun away from Traniff. “Listen, I’m not asking you to name your first born after him, but we have a golden opportunity to hit Rogun and the Empire _and_ get rich, all at the same time. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

“Peachy.”

“Traniff can’t do this job without you, and you can’t do it on your own. You’d only have to work together once. At the end, you can walk away.”

She ground her teeth. She thought it over, eyes on Traniff. Darmas dared not look away.

“What’s the job?” she asked.

“A smash and grab on an Imperial treasury ship.”

“Sounds like suicide.”

“Not if you break in with Traniff and his best code cracker. Come, have a drink and hear us out.” As he led her back to the table he whispered in her ear, “I’ll make it up afterwards. I promise.” His heart ached again.

“You’re going to have to do a lot to make up for this, Darmas.” She sat down and kept one hand on her blaster.

He wouldn’t say they were the best of friends by the end of the conversation, but they’d at least come to an agreement, and shaken on it, for whatever that was worth.

His shirt stuck to his back, damp with cool sweat. He did it. The Voidwolf better appreciate his hard work.

# Odessen

Darmas smirked. “It all worked out in the end though, right? Seeing you in nothing but diamonds and gold -- that’s a sight I’ll remember right up to my last breath.”

She can’t help but grin. That _had_ been a good night. And Traniff had actually kept his side of the bargain. Didn’t change her opinion on pirates, or Traniff, though. “I can’t believe we actually ate that gold leaf. What were we thinking?”

“We were decadent aesthetes, basking in the Empire’s embarrassment.”

“Did they know we’d be hitting them?”

“No. The Empire is held together with grudges and vendettas. The Voidwolf had enemies of his own, moffs who thought he had climbed above his station. You hitting the Kings Ransom gave him a chance to gloat, as well as building the case against your reputation.”

“Well, as long as _he_ got something out of it…” She fills her glass, fills Darmas’ too.

“My first niggle of regret came after your King’s Ransom success. You outdid yourself. I was so proud. But I knew what you didn’t. I knew what your success meant, and I confess I felt guilty.”

She raises her eyebrow. The waver in his voice, the softness in his eyes. Smooth bastard.

“You stayed the night,” he continues. “You’d never done that before. Holding you in my arms … that was different.”

Silence stretches between them. She’d been giddy that night. It even beat the party she’d had with the crew after bringing home Nok Drayan’s riches.

“I wanted to cast aside my job and run away with you,” Darmas said. “Travel the stars, wake up in your cabin, all that romantic, idealistic nonsense that people think spacers do.”

“There’s a lot less looking at stars and a lot more patching the ship together mid-flight.”

“I figured you’d knock some reality into me. Still, didn’t stop me dreaming.”


	7. Chapter 7

# Port Nowhere

Darmas woke up to hair tickling his face. There Jun lay, her head on his shoulder, rising and falling with his breath. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Falling asleep together. Love them and leave them, that was one of his many mottos. But they had had far too much to drink last night. He wasn’t about to let her stumble back to her ship through Port Nowhere when everyone knew she’d just taken down the King’s Ransom and probably had gold bars sewed into her coat. And he was far too unsteady to walk her back. Could’ve called her bruisers to escort her. The wookie and the mandalorian.

But, maybe part of him wanted her to stay. He’d become quite fond of her these past years. Perhaps he could turn her. Might not be as easy as turning Bevera, especially given his rousing endorsement of the Republic. But Rogun was still a threat and his animosity towards her could only lead them to him.

Darmas shuffled out from under Jun, availed himself of the fresher and brushed his teeth. Shaved, too. He patted aftershave on his jaw and tiptoed back to bed. Let her think he always looked and smelled this good.

She curved herself around his body, nuzzling against his shoulder. He kissed her hair. Just for a while, he could let himself pretend that he wasn’t ruining her life.

# Odessen

“After your success with the King’s Ransom, I truly regretted sending you to Belsavis, but Ivory was the best lead I’d had in years. Get him, get Rogun.”

“Get Rogun off your back, you mean,” Jun says.

Darmas shrugs.

“Did you ever think you’d end up there?” Jun asks.

“The thought crossed my mind, but I never intended on getting caught.”

Of course he didn’t.

She still fears ending up there. That the Republic could have a whole planet full of prisoners … Children had been born there. Some were second generation … She swallows her revulsion. “Were you pissed I killed Ivory?”

“I’d’ve been more annoyed if you’d handed him back to the Republic. But I can see it from your point of view. Ruthless killer, mentor to the man hunting you down. I’d want to tie up loose ends, too. At least you got some information out of him before you took him out.”

“That planet gave me the creeps. How’d you find out about it? Dodonna?”

“That little bird did sing such lovely songs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Belsavis gives me the willies. The plants are nice though.


	8. Chapter 8

# Belsavis

Bevera had that look on her face that said, ‘I know something you don’t, and you’re going to love it when you find out.’ She had that expression a lot. Sometimes it was unwarranted; Darmas had been embedded in Republic space long enough to hear things. But this one, oh, this took the proverbial cake.

“The Republic has an entire planet dedicated to incarcerating its worst enemies,” she said.

He should be surprised. “A whole planet you say?”

“Mmm hmm. We have to put them somewhere.”

“Your civilised society hasn’t heard of death as a punishment?”

Bevera laughed. She was smart, and quick, and ruthless. All excellent qualities for a Republic senator, and, Imperial tyrant. Darmas still wasn’t sure if the Voidwolf would grant her her prize for helping. He suspected not.

Darmas scanned the names Bevera was able to retrieve from Republic records. He recognised more than a few. Agents he thought had died in the line of duty to the Empire, gang leaders arrested and never heard from again -- assumed dead -- even a smuggler or two he’d played cards with. But they weren’t dead. They were well and truly alive. Noble Republic on display once again. The Empire would’ve enslaved them or killed them. No use in keeping scum alive past their point of usefulness.

One name stuck out: Ivory.

Now, there was an idea. Truth was, he had no idea where Rogun was hiding out. Had a few planet-sized leads, but he needed to narrow down the targets. Ivory had been Rogun’s mentor before they had their falling out. If Ivory could be given a nudge in the right direction, then just think of what they could learn from him.

“How about we incite a little riot?” he asked Bevera.

That smile crept back.

He sent a short message to Keeper and waited for the chaos to start.

# Odessen

Jun shudders. “That whole planet was a shit show. It still gives me nightmares. Then Dodonna was on my ass about getting to Voss ASAP, but I needed to make that detour to see you. Cleanse the palate.” She twirls her glass. “Did you know that would be our last time together?”

“I had a pretty good guess.”

“So was the necklace genuine, or just another of your asshole moves?” She probably shouldn’t be enjoying just how hurt he looks when she needles him. But he did betray her. “I’ve still got it. Thought about selling it after Corellia, but thanks to you handling my business so well, I didn’t need the credits. I kept it as an insurance policy. I found it again when I got my ship back after the the whole dying thing. Almost sold it again. Turns out running a resistance costs a lot of credits.”

“Why hold onto it then?”

She shrugs. It reminds her of the good times she had with him. Reminds her of what he did, in the end. He made her feel special. He made her feel worthless. He wasn’t like other exes. “Maybe I’ll start wearing it. Who knows.”

She still hates him. But like the necklace, she can’t shake him, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight departure from canon here. I think it's Ivory who incites the riot, not Darmas. But why let canon get in the way of a good story.


	9. Chapter 9

# Port Nowhere

This wouldn’t be the last time Darmas saw Dodonna, but it would be the last time he saw her on his side. The Voidwolf’s plans were clear. Darmas wasn’t surprised, and he didn’t bother arguing for Dodonna’s reward, even a watered down one. Deceit and betrayal ran deep in the Empire. He knew that.

Maybe that’s why he couldn’t keep it up. He popped a stim before Bevera arrived. He should be harder than duraplate right now. Instead, he was in the embarrassing position of having to turn down Bereva’s excellent felatio. Fortunately, his lack of enthusiasm was only limited to his flagging cock, and Bevera was such a fan of his tongue. He lost himself between her legs, and kept one hand on his cock, stroking himself. Little good it did. He made her come twice but he wasn’t hard enough to go further. He played it off, said they should have a break. He put on his robe, poured them both a whiskey, and beckoned her over to join him on the sofa. She sat sideways, legs over his lap.

They settled in. Talked politics. She went on about what she was going to do with her shiny new planet. He felt sorry for her, so he steered the conversation towards less bitter topics.

When they eventually fucked, he thought of Jun on top of him, instead of Bevera. Saw her hazel eyes gazing back at him, instead of Dodonna’s brown eyes. Her blunt fingernails raking his chest hair, instead of Bevera’s sharp nails. Her hair tumbling over her shoulders, instead of Bevera’s bob. He came with her name on the tip of his tongue, but he covered it with a groan.

A day later and he was doing this again, only in clean sheets and with the woman herself. She didn’t know it, but this was probably their last time together. Bevera would keep her busy on Voss for as long as Darmas needed to find Rogun, then she’d need to act fast to get Rogun before he slipped away again.

This moment had been building, and he was feeling sentimental about the whole situation. She’d come to mean a lot to him. She would hate him, in a month or two, and that hurt. But right now, he could make her love him, just a bit.

“My love, I got you something.” He passed her the bag.

“Aw, Darmas, you shouldn’t have.” She eyed him. Eyed the bag. Like she was assessing what could be in such a small package. She tugged the drawstring open and pulled out the velvet box. He watched her expression, seeing if he’d made a wrong move with this gift. She opened the box and her eyes went wide. “Wow, you really shouldn't have.” She pulled out the necklace, rested the ruby against her palm. “This is beautiful. But I can’t wear it.”

Not an outright rejection, but... “Why not?”

“It’s huge! I’m gonna pull a muscle just wearing it.”

He got up and took it from her. He stood behind her and placed it around her neck, kissed her neck and clasped the chain. “Then keep it in the ship, safe and sound. And wear it on special occasions. Like now.”

She admired the ruby. “Where did you even get this? It wasn’t in the King’s Ransom haul.”

“The finest jewels the glorious Empire can provide.” He meant it, but he dripped with sarcasm.

“Empire, huh? Yeah, I can see the sith drooling over stones like these.” She huffed. “Well, it’s a nice fuck you to both sides. Thank you, Darmas, you’re a real peach.”

She wore it while the fucked. It thumped against her chest, between her breasts. The light caught, dazzling and red.

He came hard, and held her close as they fell asleep together. In the morning, she’d be gone. But he had now.

# Odessen

The cantina’s emptying out, but the staff solider on, sliding another tray of food onto Jun and Darmas’ table.

Jun grips her glass to stop herself from touching her chest, where the necklace would rest. “I’m embarrassed to admit this,” she says. “But it took me a long time to realise you and Dodonna had set me up on Voss. I didn’t make the connection at first. She didn’t need me there to expose Rogun’s smuggling beast conspiracy. You knew it was him, and you probably knew who was running the ring on the ground, too.”

Darmas has the decency to look ashamed. “You still did everyone a favour by putting down that smuggling ring. Those beasts were hideous. Anyway, listening to Dodonna gripe about your complete lack of diplomacy always made my day.”

She grins. “I told her. If she wanted a diplomat, she should have sent one. What were you doing while I was off breaking all the rules?

“Going through all that intel you had on Ivory and sending out leads. Rogun kept a tight lid on his operations. Took me weeks just to decode everything, then even more to follow up on the leads.”

“Did you think about us?”

“Us? You and me? I tried not to. Had to focus on the job.”


	10. Chapter 10

# Voss

In the privacy of his Port Nowhere rooms, Darmas opened up Ivory’s datapad. All the messages and files were encrypted, but Darmas had time. Jun would be on her fool’s errand for weeks. He had a hunch about Ivory. The man was old school, like Rogun and Nok Drayen -- crime lords of the underworld. Old school meant old fashioned. The codes’ cyphers would be right under his nose. He just had sniff them out.

Took a lot of drinks and a good few rounds of cards before he broke the first code. Nothing immediately useful, but intel was intel, even if the writer was dead.

He cracked the next code, then another. Coordinates for Alderan, Nar Shaddar, Coruscant, Hutta, even Quesh. Through Keeper, he sent Imperial agents -- couldn’t risk Rogun getting tipped off so he kept the reconnaissance professional. Alderann was dead. Nar Shaddar was too obvious and yes, while Rogun has been there, he only had lackies there now. Coruscant would just take the cake, but again, no one. One lead even suggested Belsavis. That lead was dead. No active bases on Balmorra; pushed out of because of the war. Hutta was a goer for a while there, but the trail lead to Tatooine.

Keeper’s message included a grainy still holo of a Chagrian. Bingo.

He ran a hand through his hair, buttoned up his jacket, and put the call through to Bevera.

“Please tell me you have good news,” she said. “Captain Diplomacy has been nothing but bad news.”

“I only call when I have good news! How are things on Voss?”

Dodonna grumbled something unintelligible and expletive laden. Darmas held his smile.

“When she’s done ruining your reputation, I’m sending her to kill Rogun,” he said.

That perked her up. “You know where he is?”

Darmas grinned. “I verified the holo myself.”

“I’ll pull her from Voss now. It’ll save me the headache of dealing with her any longer.”

“Don’t be so hasty. That idiot captain will be out of our hands soon enough. Let her take out Rogun, then the rest of the gangs will fold, and we’ll have the whole underworld locked up.”

Dodonna’s eyes lit up. “At last! The Voidwolf will keep his promise and when the Empire wins, I’ll have a planet of my own.”

He smiled, arms wide. “All yours, my dear, to do with what you want.”

“I can’t wait. I’ll let you know as soon as she’s done ruining my life.”

They ended the call. Darmas started packing again. He was getting good at travelling light.

# Odessen

Jun almost doesn’t want to ask about Tatooine. The confusion is still too raw. The way Rogun had called her _little girl_. She takes a deep breath, hiding it behind a slug of her whiskey. “What did you expect to happen when I went to Tatooine?”

“Either the Voidwolf’s lackeys would take you both out, or you and Rogun would do that yourselves. Blaze of glory firefight. Very romantic.”

“Did you know about the recording?”

He tilts his head. “Recording?”

Finally, she has one up on him. “The Voidwolf’s sith showed me a holo of you and Dodonna talking shit about me. ‘Idiot captain’, you called me.” That still stings now as much as it did then.

His expression darkens. “Now that, I truly regret.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“After everything I’ve said tonight, you still don’t believe I cared for you?”

Her rage bubbles up. “How could you have cared for me? You used me! Threw me under the hovercar. All for your fucking glorious Empire. Maybe it would have been different if you’d been working your own angle, but no, you did all that for _them_.” She huffs. Lana is _them_ , but she isn’t like them. Darth Marr was _them_. The emperor in her head, he is definitely _them_. “At least I wasn’t a cheap sell like Dodonna.”

Darmas has the sense to keep his trap shut for once.

“I didn’t believe Rogun. Thought he was lying. Didn’t believe the Voidwolf telling me you were his lackey, either.”

“I have to admit, I was impressed when you sided with Rogun instead of killing him.”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t know what to believe. Had to keep my options open. Anyway, he was almost as old as you. Not nearly the butcher he used to be.”

“Ouch. I won’t lie. When I found out you’d not only survived, but had let Rogun live, I started to sweat. I left for Corellia the moment you left for Tatooine, but even with that lead, I had to work fast.”

“I got off that sandball and flew to Corellia as fast as I could, even took Rogun with me as a hostage or something. Bowdaar kept him under watch. Didn’t care about whatever it was the Republic needed me to do on Corellia. I was hell-bent on finding you. And killing you.”

“Well you certainly found me, and despite all that happened after, I’m glad you didn’t kill me.”

She should’ve killed him. Neutralised the threat. She almost did. But looking at him down the barrel of her blaster, she couldn’t do it. “The only time I heard you say you loved me was when you were turning your Corellian rioters against me.”

He swallows. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner, but I couldn’t.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My notes for this chapter read, ‘Darmas is TIRED’ and ‘HOT LADY REBELS’.

# Corellia

Darmas stood in front of the mirror, razor in hand. The bags under his eyes were heaver, wrinkles deeper. Too much gray showing in his hair. When had he gone from charming old man to just old man? He took out his contacts. Green eyes stared back. Maybe he’d keep the green this time. Have something of himself in his new identity.

The hyperlanes were smooth, and barring any incidents, his ship would exit in Corellia’s orbit in an hour or so. As he shaved, he contemplated his future. _New face, new you_. Keeper had been cagey about Darmas’ new identity. So had Watcher. He tried to not let this bother him, but part of him thought he was on track to be cast aside along with Dodonna. He knew too much, knew too many names, faces, secrets. But he was an agent of the Empire, had been from the day of his conception. He was loyal, he could be trusted. They knew that.

He tried not to think about Jun. She’d been part of the job, that was all. One of many Darmas had loved and lost over the years. Drawn in as a pawn, her part in the game was over now. He told himself she didn’t mean anything. There was nothing he could do for her now anyway. She would be dead soon, if Rogun still lived up to his reputation. And if she did get the upper hand against him, there were the Voidwolf’s sith to contend with.

He put down the razor and patted his face. He looked marginally better. Clean, if not crisp. One more run, one more job. He just had to turn on the charm one last time, then he’d be able to put Darmas Pollaran to rest for good.

*

Well, the Empire sure had done a number on Corellia. From his shuttle window, wrecked ships and bent metal cluttered the landscape. Smoking craters. Bevera muttered something under her breath. Darmas looked over. The warzone had captured her attention as well. Her eyes gleamed. A small smile played on her lips. Darmas swallowed and looked away.

“Sergeant Raleigh will be waiting for us at the landing pad,” he said. “That’s where we part ways, my dear. You’ll go with him and meet with the Voidwolf. I’ve got other business to attend to.”

Bevera leaned over and kissed Darmas’ cheek. “I hope this isn’t the end. I’ll send you an invite to my planet as soon as I can.”

Darmas smiled. “I can’t wait.”

They kissed goodbye on the landing pad. He put in the effort, hands on her hips, shoulders, hair. Sent her off right. He watched her hop onto the speeder with Raleigh. Her cape flapped behind her. He sighed, his gut tight. When had he become so soft for a mark? He was getting too old for this game. A bomb whistled overhead. Time to go.

Keeper called as Darmas was halfway to the military hospital. Darmas pulled his speeder behind a pile of rubble.

"Agent, I understand you're close to supply tunnel 26/8," Keeper said.

Darmas didn’t have time for this, and he didn’t have a map with that kind of detail. "If you say so," he said, biting down his impatience.

“Imperial forces have been… delayed. We need that tunnel open now. I trust you to take care of it."

"Of course." Darmas wasn’t an engineer or explosives expert. But he did know people. He changed his course and headed for the tunnel, following the updated map Keeper sent through. He hadn’t been told why the Imperials needed the tunnel open or why those who were supposed to do it had been delayed but he supposed details like that were far above his pay grade.

He spotted his first mark, a tall solid man in overalls carrying a bag of what was probably filled with tools. "Hey, I need your help, come quick," he called. "The Imperials are trying to get through!"

The rabble at supply tunnel 26/8 were easy to rile up. Corellians and their patriotism: they were Corellians first, members of the Republic second. But always enemies to the Empire. He had a gaggle of engineers hanging on his every word, ones trained in Republic methods, all ready to bust open that tunnel and open up a clear path for the Empire.

And who walked back into his life just as the work was about to start?

"Hey, asshole," Jun called, blaster raised, best friend Corso Riggs mirroring her pose.

His heart hammered. She should be dead. She was very much alive. And apoplectic. He steeled himself for the dross that flew out his mouth.

"Ah, if it isn't the Voidwolf's pet." He turned to the crowd, pointedly making eye contact. “You know her, Captain Jun Lucke, Republic hero turned traitor. I confess I once loved this woman. But when she turned against the Republic, I couldn’t stay by her side any longer.” The words he spun curdled in his stomach as he twisted the crowd against her. It wasn’t his fault. She shouldn’t be here.

“He's lying,” she yelled. “Don’t believe him! He’s only in this for the hot lady rebels.”

He stopped, mouth open. A laugh bubbled up but he swallowed it down. That--that was unexpected. Unexpected was not what he needed right now. She went on, turning his own crowd against him. Impressive.

He fired his blaster just above the crowd -- enough to scare, not injure -- and in the chaos, made his escape. Fuck the tunnel. Fuck Keeper. That was too close. Fear mingled with guilt. He skidded into the Imperial base and flashed his credentials. He was deep in Imperial territory now. He weaved his way through the base. The closer to the hospital he got, the calmer he felt.

The surgeon was waiting, expecting him -- a good sign. He settled into his consultation, free from the war raging outside.

*

“Darmas Pollaran, if that’s even your real name.”

She just won’t give him a break, will she. She stalked towards Darmas and his surgeons, blaster raised, Corso still by her side like an obedient puppy. And how in sweet hell had she managed to walk into an Imperial hospital? He should have known better than to underestimate her. She did, after all, walk into an Imperial base on Balmorra and steal plans right out under their noses. And she’d blasted her way into a heavily defended Imperial treasury ship. A hospital in the middle of a war zone was small fry.

_Okay old man, start sweet talking and she might let you live._

She shot the surgeons. The blaster fire echoed around the room. She aimed her blaster at him. _Better start that talking..._

“Captain, I didn’t expect to see you here. Congratulations are in order. Well done! Rah rah! Now. What will it take for me to walk out of here?” He sat back as casually as he could muster even as his heart hammered, but he kept one hand near his blaster. “I know you always have your price.”

“How long have you been working for the Empire?”

He can’t help but laugh. “Since the day I was born.”

Her arm wavered. “So everything we had... it’s all been a lie?”

He didn’t look away from her, but Corso shifted in his peripheral vision. “No, what _we_ had wasn’t a lie.”

She huffed. “Should’ve known you’d get hung up on semantics.”

“You’re not the first woman I’ve lied to for the Empire, but you’re the first who ever made me regret it.” He hoped his sincerity came through.

She scoffed. “Please. Still trying to sweet talk me. I could just pull the trigger right now.”

Her arm waved around like a tree in a stiff breeze. If she even got a shot off, chances were high it wouldn’t hit him. _Keep her talking_.

“It’s Dodonna you want. The Republic doesn’t care about a spy in a cantina, but the senate? Now that’s news.” He raised his hands. “Let me go, and I’ll give you what’s in my pocket: my dossier on Dodonna, right from the day I recruited her.”

A bomb exploded and rattled the walls. That was close. Too close… Voices shouted. Imperial, Republic accents. Ah. Backup. If she was going to shoot him, she would need to do it quickly.

“Give Corso your blaster,” she said.

He handed it over, and in a show of good faith, he opened his suit jacket and handed her the one hiding in there, too. Corso looked it over and whistled.

“Hold them off a second,” she said to Corso.

Corso nodded and jogged back out the door.

She stepped forward and slapped him across the face. Blood bloomed in his mouth. He deserved that. “You made me laugh,” she said. “When I was with you, I felt like everything would be okay. I knew we weren’t going to be forever, I wasn’t that dumb. But I thought we had _something_. Did I mean anything to you?”

He should be scoffing at her naivety. Instead, guilt gnawed in his chest. “More than you’ll know. We made quite the team, Captain. Too bad you were on the wrong side.” He handed her the datapad. That was all he could give her. No confessions. Empire to the end. At least he didn’t lie this time.

Another bomb, this one loud enough to rattle the instruments on the surgical table. Corso returned with a bevy of Republic soldiers.

She didn’t speak as the soldiers roughly handcuffed him. He was going to miss those eyes. And those breasts.

The rest didn’t bear thinking about.

# Odessen

Jun looks Darmas over again. There’s a small scar on his lip, but it can’t have come from her. “You never got that face transplant. Can’t say I’m sad about that.”

"I have to agree with you. I've gotten quite attached to it over the years. But, it was time for a new one. My arrest paid heed to that."

"You weren't tempted to do a little jail surgery? Get one of your imp buddies to help out?"

"I do love your sense of humour. No, I spent my time on Belsavis trying not to get killed. The card players kept accusing me of cheating. Me! A card cheat!"

"You were in good company at least, back with your own people."

Darmas makes a face like he's eaten a lemon. "Don't get me wrong, I loved the Empire, but I did my best work when they were over there." He gestures away from the table to some place far away from him.

"So it wasn’t a homecoming?" she says.

He leans forward. "You have to understand, I was born to be an Imperial agent. My whole life, from my first screaming breath, was in service to the glorious Empire."

"I bet you were an awful child."

Darmas laughs. "Quite the contrary, my dear. I was a model student. Perfect scores across the board."

"What I'm hearing is that you never got caught cheating. Those skills set you up good for a life at the card tables."

"How dare you cast such aspersions. If there's one thing I'm honest with, it's cards."

"Not me though."

Darmas leans in. Hands close to hers, but he doesn't touch her. "I don't regret the time we spent together. Not at all."

"What do you regret, then?"

“I regret getting caught.”

She sits back and shakes her head. Now she’s done. She knocks back the rest of her drink and stands up.

“I cried when I heard you’d died,” he says. She stands there, hands on her hips, and looks down at him. “I hadn’t cried since I was a boy, but there I was, shedding tears over your death. What had you been to me? A pawn, sure, but a lover, too. A fierce lover. I didn’t believe you’d died at first. Refused to believe it. Only when a fellow inmate showed me sliced holos from the Empire, Republic, _and_ Zakuul did I believe it. That’s when I reached my lowest point. Abandoned by the Empire, abandoned by the Republic, left to survive on that miserable planet. Abandoned by you.”

“Asshole.”

“I had two options. Give up, or fight.”

She nods at his hands. “Those aren’t fighting knuckles, and you’re still here.”

“The Empire didn’t raise a quitter, and I do my best fighting with words.”

She raises her finger in the direction of the bar. The barman nods. Despite herself, she sits back down.

“The Voidwolf promised Dodonna a planet. He promised me nothing. With the Republic all but abandoning Belsavis to us, I thought, why not honour your memory by running this planet myself?”


	12. Chapter 12

# Belsavis, redux

Belsavis was … well, it was as miserable as she had described. The armour and vibroblade were a welcoming gift he was not expecting. He shouldn't have been surprised, given what he knew about how the Republic ran its prisons and detention centres. At least he had his own cell, in minimum security as well.

He let himself get used to the routine, always watching, absorbing every detail he could. Who the guards were, what their tells were, which ones prodded with their vibroblade switched on. Which ones could be bribed. And the inmates. Who pretended to be off their rocker and who actually was. Most of them were,crazy, unfortunately. Were they insane before they came here, or did it happen after? Was this his fate, too?

He put a lot of names to faces he’d only read about in reports. Agents, troublemakers, Empire lackeys who he thought were dead, were here, making a name for themselves, flourishing. Or languishing.

He shouldn’t be here. He should be on Nar Shaddaa, or Ziost, or even Corellia. Hell, he’d even take Drommand Kaas’ ever present storms over this ever present threat of death. But here he was, slumming it with scum the Republic were too scared to deal to.

He waited for his rescue. He was too important an asset to let languish here. In one daring raid and with the help of a slicer, Darmas broke into a communication relay and flicked a message off to Drommand Kass. He’d done what he could. The rest was up to Keeper.

No one came.

His hoped turned to resentment. He should have known better. His hubris got the best of him. Agents were disposable and he’d been disposed of.

By day he did what he had to to stay alive. That meant bribing some people and killing others.

By night he lay in his cell, cold and lonely. What he wouldn't do to have his lady by his side. They wouldn't be here in Belsavis, of course. They'd be living a lavish life on Alderaan, scandalising the nobles. Or maybe they'd travel by pleasure barge across Nar Shaddar, playing sabacc and eating gourmet dinners every night. Yes, he dreamed of Jun. He even felt guilty. He'd figured out what that twisting curl in his stomach was, and it wasn't the food he had to scrounge. What he said to that rabble on Corellia was true: he loved that woman. Maybe, one day, he'd be able to make it up to her. With that goal in mind, he gave up on all hope of rescue, gave up on the Empire, and played Belsavis' games.

News came in fits and bursts. A few bribes always helped, and a regular delivery of spice to the guard house got Darmas his very own link to the outside world. Down link only. Dodonna’s betrayal had caused quite the scandal in the Republic senate, a full investigation and purge, but he couldn’t find out what had happened to her. But he wasn’t interested in Dodonna. He used his link to track Jun, naturally. How else would he find her when he finally escaped this hell hole? Still, she was a smuggler, and a good one, so keeping tabs on her wasn't easy. For two years he followed her ship around the galactic board, but even then he didn't believe she'd been to all those ports. Tython, sure. Rishi he could understand. Maybe even Manaan. But Korriban? An error in the manifest. Or a red herring. He didn’t think anything of it when the ship went weeks without popping up in any ports. That was common enough for her. The new battleships overhead weren’t anything to worry about either. The Zakuulians didn’t bother landing, but the Republic guards ran scared, leaving barely controlled chaos in their wake.

The battle for survival only hardened his resolve. And when word came of Jun’s death, his resolve sharpened to a point. He had nothing left to live for, so he fought for all he had left.

# Odessen

"I'd grown my own little family of misfits and was almost a happy man when wouldn't you know it, in the middle of the night, my cell door blew open and I stared into the yellow eyes of death. Only she didn't stick me with that lightsaber of hers. No, she said, 'come with me. I've got a job for you,' and threw me a blaster. My luck had changed for the better!”

“You know, the same thing happened to me,” Jun says.

“I agreed to Miss Beniko’s plan only because it got me out of Belsavis. Sure, word had reached us mere prisoners of Zakuul’s swift victory throughout the galaxy, but what did that matter to us when we had to fight daily for food? I didn’t care about Zakuul. I had every intention of making my escape the moment Miss Beniko turned her back. Where I’d escape to was up for debate. Her lackey, the pilot, Koth, he set me up with his contact in this cantina down in the wards of Zakuul’s capital. Even gave me an entire identity, backstory included. Very professional.

“It’s an awful cantina, even by Port Nowhere standards. I told myself I’d stay long enough to find a better one. One that served real whiskey and had real card games. But the longer I worked that bar, the more I spoke to the patrons, the more my resentment towards the Empire grew. They’d just rolled over! Capitulated! I expected better from sith, especially Empress Acina. That’s when I truly realised that the sith only look out for themselves. You think I’d be bitter, take on a bit of that selfishness myself. But, here’s the kicker: my conscience got the better of me. I couldn’t sit by and let these people be used the same way the Empire used their own.”

“Same emperor, different civilizations,” Jun says. “So now you’re a proud member of the Alliance, doing your part for the good of the galaxy.”

“That’s right. And you of all people are our commander.” He looks proud.

“Play the hand you’re dealt, I guess,” she says.

Darmas drums his fingers on the table, jaw clenched like he wants to ask something. The place is empty now, except for them. Even the bar staff have gone.

“So--”

“I know--”

They speak at the same time. She gestures for Darmas to go first. Darmas gestures to her. She insists.

“I know we can’t go back to what we had,” Darmas says. “I’m sorry for deceiving you. I’m sorry for lying. Most of all, I’m sorry for breaking your heart. That was unconscionable. I hope, after all this, you can believe me when I say I loved you. It took me too long to believe it myself.”

She nods, stares at the table. She believes him. She can’t forgive him. One day, maybe.

“At the very least we can be civil?” he offers. “You won’t see me around here often. Zakuul’s my home now, after all. But every now and then I need to travel across planet to see my grandchildren, you understand. I have five. They’re all wonderful, I assure you. See?” He pulls out a holocomm and flicks through five smiling faces. They even look a bit like him. He puts the holos away. “Some things are safest said face to face. That’s when I come and brief Miss Beniko in person. The rest of the time though, I’m making drinks and trying to teach those wretched locals how to play sabaac.”

“We can be civil,” she says. It’s the least she can do.

Darmas stands and offers his hand. “Friends?”

She shakes. His grip is just as tight as always, his hand warm and dry. “Acquaintances.”

His smile is tight. “I’ll take whatever isn’t a blaster to the guts.”

They part. “I’ll see you around, Darmas Pollaran.”

“Always a pleasure, Captain Lucke.” He kisses her cheek. “Until next time.”

She turns her back on Darmas. Six, seven years may have passed but he’s still a smug asshole infatuated with the sound of his own voice. She may not be able to love him again, but maybe he’s right; she can love what they had -- the parts that were real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I love Darmas and have wanted to hear his side of the story. He's a bastard, but...


End file.
